Being Neighborly
by Snapegirlkmf
Summary: After a horrendous blizzard, Rumple and Rhee come across an elderly neighbor lying in the snow unconscious. They save his life, and agree to take care of his cat and a stray dog while he is hospitalized, but get more than Rumple bargained for as they discover several unexpected surprises! "Chocolate" verse #11-sequel to "Don't Tell Belle the Christmas Tree's Dead".
1. Being Neighborly

**Being Neighborly**

 **Chocolate verse #11**

That winter was one of the worst New Yorkers could recall, with a record blizzard that dumped over two feet of snow onto the city and left thousands without heat or electricity. The city ground to a halt and everyone was shut into their houses until the storm passed and left frozen cold tragedy in its wake. The Golds had all gathered in the brownstone, because it still had power and heat and running water. Bae and Rhee's apartment near the university had lost power at the outset of the storm, and so they had made their way to Gold's brownstone as snow poured from the sky. The university was closed for a record four days while snow crews with plows attempted to dig out the parking lots and sidewalks. Classes were cancelled and Bae had managed to charge his phone and was waiting for a call from the dean's office to tell when classes were to resume.

Gold decided to check out how his shop had fared during the blizzard, and despite protests from his wife and son, pulled on his thick sheepskin coat, gloves, hat, and scarf and with his cane prepared to venture out into the winter wonderland that the city had become.

"Papa, at least let me go with you," Bae argued. "You shouldn't wander around the city by yourself."

"Grandpa, I'll come with you," Rhee offered. "Dad, chill. It's only four blocks from here."

"The snow might have made it impassable, Rumple," Belle argued.

Carina burbled from her infant seat.

"Belle, if I can't get there, I'll turn around and go home," Gold replied. He looked at Rhee. "Dearie, you sure you want to come with me?"

"Sure! I'm sick of being inside," his granddaughter declared. "I'm gonna go stir crazy."

"All right. But if you run into problems, call me or text me," Bae sighed. He thought about going with them, but didn't like to leave Belle and the baby alone. Who knew what kind of desperate souls this storm would bring out?

"We will," Rumple hugged his son and kissed his wife and daughter goodbye. "I'll be back, dearies!" he said, making his voice deeper and playfully imitating Arnold from Terminator.

Rhee giggled. "C'mon, Grandpa! Let's go before all the snow melts."

Rumple coughed. "That would take Heat Miser, swanmay," he reminded, then he playfully tugged Rhee's pink and white striped hat with the wing shaped ear-flaps over her eyes. "Oh no!" he crowed in mock-dismay. "It's dark in here!"

Then he winked and ducked through the front door.

"Hey!" Rhee shouted, after she had shoved the hat off of her eyes. "No fair, you pulling a fast one on me!"

"Better hurry, swanmay," Bae teased. "Before your grandfather reaches the store before you."

Rhee snorted. "Umm . . .right, Dad. Only in your dreams."

But when she went outside, she was astonished to see her lame grandpa a good distance down the sidewalk, limping along quickly through the salt encrusted pavement, his cane clicking lightly over the slush.

The elderly antique store owner and part-time magician glanced up as his grandchild hurried over to him, her new Ugg pink boots crunching through the salty slush, her flyaway brown hair confined by her hat, her cheeks slightly pink with cold. "Well, dearie, looks like the cleanup is underway." He pointed to a John Deere green backhoe that was slowly removing snow froma street.

"That's good, right?" she said, gazing up at the mountains of snow higher than her head that lined the avenues and boulevards. "Then people can have power again and not freeze to death."

"Yes," Gold agreed, wondering where the homeless of the city had gone to find shelter. He knew the public shelters were probably filled to capacity.

As they passed an alleyway from the small Italian specialty shop, there came a soft bark, as of an animal in distress.

Rhee froze. "Grandpa, look, there's a dog over there," she pointed to a scruffy looking gray wirehaired dog with triangular ears and a white chest. He was about medium height and had soulful brown eyes. He whined and pawed at what looked like a heap of snow covered fabric.

"I see him, Rhee," murmured Gold. "He's a stray that Tony Rizzoli feeds sometimes." He indicated the sign, half covered with snow, that was gaily painted with red and green and gold paint advertizing Rizzoli's Italian Market.

"Maybe he's hungry," Rhee said, then she held out a piece of roll she had in her pocket for the birds in Central Park that she had forgotten about. "Here, boy."

"Rhee, be careful. If he's hungry, he may snap at you," Gold warned.

But his intrepid grandchild was not afraid, perhaps because of her innate heritage, she approached the stray without fear. "Here, you want some bread?" she crooned.

The dog wagged his tail and slurped her hand, eating the offering. But then he pawed at the heap of snow again and whined.

"What's this?" Rhee knelt. "Is this where you slept?" Then she blinked hard and cried, "Grandpa! C'mere! There's a man here! And I don't know if he's breathing! He's awful cold!"

"Why, it's Tony!" exclaimed Rumple, kneeling down and brushing the snow from his neighboring storekeeper's face. A trickle of blood seemed to have frozen across his face and into his hairline. "He must have slipped and fallen here on the ice. Rhee, call 911." He ordered, checking for a pulse.

It was faint, but it was there. Gold breathed a sigh of relief. Tony had been one of the first to welcome newcomer Gold to New York when he had opened his shop and had brought him a Grand Opening basket filled with all kinds of Italian food, including pasta and cookies and pastries he had made himself. The elderly man, he was around sixty-five, was a widower who ran his shop alone, as his children were grown and lived in other parts of the country.

As Rhee told the dispatcher where they were and what type of emergency it was, Gold brushed the snow off of his neighbor and gently whispered a spell to warm him gradually, hoping that might help. He dared not do more, or else invite commentary from the paramedics, plus he was unsure if his neighbor had more serious internal injuries from the fall, and he decided that unless it were a life or death situation, he would avoid trying to mend him with his newly acquired white magic. He didn't want the elderly Italian to accrue a debt to him he'd be unable to pay.

The stray gray dog, who Tony had taken to calling Tramp after the famous Disney mutt, whined and pawed at Gold's trouser leg. He licked the elderly man's face.

"Hey now, none of that," scolded Gold gently. He shoved Tramp's head away. "I know you mean well but your tongue has germs."

Tramp barked and Gold looked up as sirens blared and an ambulance arrived on the scene.

 **Page~*~*~*~Break**

"Hello, Rumple?" Belle answered her cell on the first ring. "You're _where?_ In the _hospital?"_

"Now, don't get upset, sweetheart. I'm here because I'm filling out some paperwork for Mr. Rizzoli. We found him lying in the alley beside his store, covered with snow and unconscious. Actually, Rhee found him, thanks to that stray mutt, Tramp he always feeds . . ."

"Oh, how terrible! That poor man! Will he be okay?" Belle exclaimed.

"Yes, I think so. He has a slight concussion and some mild hypothermia and a broken ankle. But he's conscious and I spoke to him briefly before they put him upstairs in a room. He's given me the key to his apartment above the shop and asked me to please feed his cat and Tramp while he's in the hospital."

"Maybe I'd better come over and help clean up his apartment too," Belle suggested. "Bae can watch Carina for a little bit, can't you, Bae?"

"Sure, Mama," Bae agreed.

"All right. Let me get some lunch here and see what is going on with Tony and we'll see about getting a taxi back home," Gold told her. "See you soon, bye."

As he hung up his cell, Rhee approached him with a large balloon that said _Get Well Soon_ with a large smiley face on it, and also a bag with a box of limited edition Godiva Christmas truffles and some crossword puzzles and a paperback by Terry Brooks. "Grandpa, I bought these for a get well gift for Tony," she handed him the change and the receipt.

"That's fine, Rhee. Now let's go back up to his room and see what he says," Rumple urged, and they rode the elevator back up to where Tony was convalescing.

The little Italian was delighted to see Mr. Gold and Rhee again, and he accepted the gifts with a smile. " _Gratzie, signorina,"_ he said in Italian, his dark eyes crinkling with warmth. "You are too kind!" He smiled at Mr. Gold. "Roberto, you have brought up this _bambina_ right. And thank you again for looking after my pets."

Like many of his contemporaries here in the city, Tony knew him as Robert Gold, antique dealer. Only his family called him by his "nickname". "No trouble at all, Tony. What are friends for? I'm glad you like the chocolate and if you need anything, you have my number." He pointed to a piece of paper with his cell number on it.

"Well, the doc says I'm probably going to have surgery on my ankle in two days and then they'll see how it goes. I may be here for a few more days, depending." He rubbed his head. "I'm lucky my old head is so hard. _Testadura!_ " he chuckled. "And luckier that you and the little one found me." He crossed himself. "Thanks be to God."

"Do you know what time you'll be out of surgery?" Gold queried.

"Sometimes after ten o'clock. I have an early appointment," replied the elderly man. He seemed a little nervous.

Gold saw and sat down, saying soothingly, "I'm sure the surgery will go fine. Would you like a cup of coffee? There's a vending machine down the hall."

"I . . .well . . .umm . . .if you don't mind."

"I don't," the other reassured him. Then he rose to get the coffee, after asking how Tony liked his coffee.

Unbeknownest to anyone, Gold added a few drops of a soothing elixir he had in his coat pocket, he sometimes carried some on him when Carina was colicky, it helped soothe her irritable tummy so she could sleep. He figured it would help his neighbor as well.

He handed Tony the coffee and the man took a large sip of it. "Ahh! Not as good as my espresso, but good enough." He saluted Gold with the plastic cup before taking another sip.

They stayed and visited with the lonely older man until Tony began to nod off, and Gold whispered, "Sleep well, my friend."

Rhee eyed him a little suspiciously. "Grandpa, what'd you do?" she whispered as she stepped close to him, her pink hat clutched in one hand. "Did you magic him?"

"Umm . . . I gave him a few drops of my soothing elixir in his coffee so he would quit worrying about his surgery and sleep," he admitted.

"Oh. Like you do for Carina sometimes, right?" she asked knowingly.

"Yes, but only when she's truly hurting and won't sleep any other way," he acknowledged. 'Now come on, we need to get a cab back home and pick up your grandma so we can feed the cat and the dog for Tony."

 **Page~*~*~*~Break**

Luckily, Carina was asleep when Gold and Rhee returned and Bae decided to make some popcorn and watch reruns of M*A*S*H on TV while they went out to feed the animals. He offered to make Rhee some cinnamon hot cocoa but she declined saying that she'd have one after she helped feed Tramp and Figaro, which was the name of Tony's black and white cat. "Dad, when can we get a pet?" she wheedled.

"Hmm . . .well, maybe for your birthday," Bae agreed, since Rhee was old enough now to care for one and if he went away the animal would be looked after by Rumple or Belle if necessary, along with his daughter.

Rhee ran and kissed him. "Dad, you're the best!" she singsonged.

Bae laughed. "I hope you still say that after your report card comes in." He tweaked her nose playfully.

"Dad! I never get bad marks!"

"Yeah, I forgot. You got your grandpa's brains," her dad smirked.

"I'm glad somebody did," Rumple teased back.

" _Papa_!" Bae cried, scandalized.

Rumple giggled impishly. "Gotcha, boy!"

Belle swatted at him. "Come on, Mr. Gold. Before that poor puppy and kitty starve to death!"

"All right. We can't have that, now can we?" he acquiesced.

 **Page~*~*~*~Break**

When they arrived at Tony's apartment, they found Tramp waiting patiently in the snow beside the back entrance, which Rumple used the key Tony gave him to enter. They found the place smelled slightly of marinara sauce and garlic, and it seemed as though Tony had been cleaning up after dinner before he took his fall. He had said he went out to give Tramp a beef neckbone, since it was Saturday, and slipped upon a patch of black ice and fallen. He didn't know how it was that he had survived the night, except perhaps that Tramp had kept him warm by lying on him or beside him. "It must have been God's will," he had said piously. "The Lord made all creatures, great and small, and he loveth best he that loveth them all."

Rumple had nodded. "You did that stray a good turn and so he did one for you. Animals give us the best part of themselves." He often remembered fondly the sheepdog he and Bae used to have back in the Enchanted Forest.

People back in Storybrooke often thought he had no heart when he was the Dark One, but they had been wrong. His heart had been corrupted, true, but part of it still felt compassion for the beasts of the field and the air and even at his worst he never mistreated an animal or caused one deliberate harm.

Belle looked at the sink filled with dirty dishes and muttered, "I'll wash these while you feed the dog, Rumple. Rhee, maybe you can dry Tramp with an old towel and see if you can find Figaro. Maybe she's shy around new people."

"Okay, Grammy," Rhee agreed, and went searching for an old towel. Soon she found one in a small linen closet and went outside to dry the scruffy dog and then she let him into the apartment. "Because why should you be out here in the cold?" she said.

Rumple had found some dog biscuits and a plate of meat with sauce in the fridge, as Tony had said. He pulled it out and put it in a pie tin that the shopkeeper had set aside for Tramp and heated it with his magic so the food was warm. "Dearie, are you sure he ought to be in here?" he asked Rhee upon seeing Tramp sitting in the entry way. "He might have fleas."

"He doesn't. I know," she reassured him, her amber eyes glinting uncannily from the illumination of the lightbulb in the ceiling.

"All right, but if Tony ends up with fleas . . ." he sighed, and set the food down for the dog to eat, along with another bowl of water.

Tramp began eating hungrily, and Rumple washed his hands and said, "Have you found Figaro yet, dearie?"

"Umm . . . no," Rhee sighed.

"Let's look in the bedroom," Rumple suggested.

They carefully went down the hall to the bedroom, and Rumple called, "Figaro! Figaro!" and made smooching noises.

Just then they heard a soft sound, almost like a baby crying, and Rhee put a hand to her mouth and cried, "Oh, look! There, on the bed!"

In the middle of the quilt was a black and white cat, looking rather proud as she nursed her litter of four kittens. There was a calico, another black and white kitten, a silver tabby, and a tiny little brown fuzzy one with huge amber eyes.

Rumple's eyes widened. "Umm . . . well . . .it would have been nice if Tony has told me that Figaro was a she—and she was about to have kittens!"

"Oh! They're adorable!" Rhee crooned, peering at them. "Look, this one likes me!" she squealed as the calico one, which had very pretty markings, crawled over and nuzzled her hand. The little girl looked enraptured as she stroked the baby's head and it squeaked.

Rumple smiled at the beautiful scene and took out his phone to take a picture. "Careful, Rhee. They look like they were born recently, see they don't have their eyes or ears open yet."

He pointed to the kitten's face, which still had her eyes sealed and her little ears crimped closed.

Figaro meowed softly and looked at Rumple questioningly, as if to say, "Hello! I've just had four kittens and I'm hungry!"

"Grandpa, I think she's hungry," Rhee reminded him.

"Yes, I know. Keep your fur on, sweetheart," Rumple muttered, then went to see where Tony kept the cat food.

Unable to find the canned food, he found some Italian tunafish instead, drained it and flaked it into a bowl with some hard boiled eggs and then served it to Figaro with some cat milk he found on a shelf beside the tuna.

"Oh, Rumple! How darling!" Belle exclaimed as she followed them into the bedroom.

While Figaro ate, her kittens cuddled in a heap on the quilt, mewing and nudging each other blindly.

"Grammy, do you think I can have a kitten when they're bigger?" Rhee asked Belle eagerly.

"Well, if Tony says you may, I don't see why not," Belle mused, thinking that after her granddaughter had saved his life, Tony would have given her the moon on a gilded platter if she wanted. "Which one do you like?"

"This one," Rhee pointed to the calico. "She licked my hand."

"She looks like a little beauty," Belle said, smiling.

"And she's the boss too," remarked her husband, as they watched the kittens rooting in the quilt and the way the calico pushed the others out of the way to get the warmest spot. The antique dealer sat on the bed and gently lifted the smallest kitten and placed him next to his siblings. "There you go, little lad. Poor scrap, you almost were shoved off the bed!"

"Aww!" Rhee whispered. "Grandpa, how come the others aren't careful with the little guy?"

"Well, dearie, he's the runt . . .so sometimes when you're small like this—you tend to get pushed around a lot," sighed her grandfather, thinking how that had been true when he was a child.

"But that's not fair," Rhee objected. "Just because he's little, he gets treated differently!"

"No, but that's sometimes how it is," agreed Rumple. Then he winced as the tiny kitten nibbled his finger. "But see? This one's a fighter. He thinks he can get milk from my finger!"

He pulled his finger away and the frustrated kitten squeaked angrily.

Figaro looked up from eating her dinner and growled, then jumped back on the bed and glared at the human who had invaded her space. Her emerald eyes glittered warningly and her tail lashed.

"Rumple, she looks like she thinks you're hurting her babies," Belle warned.

The magician got to his feet slowly, his hands held out. "Now, relax, dearie. I wasn't hurting your son," he began in conciliatory tones.

Figaro inspected her family, gently licking and purring over them, and then lay down among them. They all curled up next to her, kneading her side and she began to groom herself.

"Well, looks like we can be leaving now," Rumple began.

"Grandpa, we can't leave them here!" Rhee objected. "They need lots of care and Figaro needs to eat more than once a day if she has babies."

Rumple raised an eyebrow. "What?"

"Uh huh. I saw it on Animal Planet!"

"Rumple, Rhee's right. We can't just leave them here. We don't know when Tony will be home," Belle seconded.

"Belle, what do I look like—the ASPCA?" Rumple grumbled. Then he saw two sets of familiar pleading puppy dog eyes—one amber and one blue. "Don't!" he yelped.

"Don't what?" Belle asked innocently, still looking at him.

"Don't do that—that _thing_ you do with your eyes!" he sputtered, glancing away, only to encounter Rhiannon. "Not you too! Arrgh! I'm surrounded!" He glanced straight ahead, only to see Tramp sitting in the doorway, also giving him the Look.

The formerly most-feared sorcerer in Storybrooke threw up his hands.

"Okay! Okay! I give up!"

"Then we can take them home with us?" Belle squealed.

"Yes . . ." her husband grumped, pretending to be put out. It wouldn't do to let his womenfolk see how he was manipulated by a pair of puppydog eyes.

"What are _you_ looking at?" he demanded of Tramp.

Tramp whuffed and wagged his tail, as if saying, What about me?

"Grandpa, we can't leave Tramp," Rhee insisted. "It's cold and he can't stay here alone, no one will let him out."

"He might not be housetrained," Belle added. "And we wouldn't want him to wreck Tony's apartment."

Rumple sputtered and huffed.

The two women exchanged knowing glances behind his back.

"But . . .he's a stray . . . he could get fleas on Carina . . ." he protested.

"Gra-a-ndpa," Rhee drew out the syllables of his name. "I told you, he doesn't have fleas."

"What, now you're a vet?" he snorted, frowning at her.

She gave him back an equally stubborn glare. "No, I'm a swanmay. And I _know."_

"She's a chip off the old teacup, Rumple," his wife reminded him aggravatingly.

" . . .but he could mess up _our_ house . . ." he argued stubbornly.

"I don't mind," Belle said serenely.

"But . . ."

Tramp gave him puppy dog eyes again.

 _I'm such a pushover!_ He groaned.

Then his granddaughter came and gave him one of her super special hugs and declared, "Grandpa, I love you and you're the best!"

 _No! Not that!_ he thought as his stubbornness melted away like Godiva under the summer sun at her small arms hugging him and her words which made his heart nearly burst with adoration. "No wonder your papa can refuse you nothing," he muttered, and kissed her on the top of her head. "My little conniving dearie."

"Then Tramp can come too?" Belle persisted.

"Yes, Tramp too," Rumple agreed, then he muttered, _and now my house has become the Gold NYC Animal Refuge! When did I become such a fluffy marshmallow?_

Then he felt his wife's lips upon his cheek and he thought, _who cares if this is the reward it brings me?_

 **Page~*~*~*~Break**

Bae's eyes widened in shock when his parents and daughter returned a few hours later with their new guests in tow. "Thought you were gonna go and feed them, not invite them over!"

"Blame your daughter," his father replied, setting the box with the dishes down on the table.

"Dad, look at the kittens!" Rhee said, setting the box with Figaro and the four kittens down beside the fireplace. "Maybe Mr. Rizzoli will let me have one."

Bae came to peer at them. "Aww, they are really cute!" He put his arm around his daughter. "We'll see, swanmay."

"Maybe I can ask him tomorrow," Rhee suggested."

"Good idea, now why don't you take a bath and get ready for bed?" Bae suggested.

"How was my pretty girl?" asked Belle of her stepson.

"Good as . . .gold," he grinned. "She's still asleep."

He bent to pet Tramp. "Hiya, boy." He wrinkled his nose. "Hmm, maybe you need a bath too."

"Don't remind me," the pawnbroker groused. "That was your daughter's doing."

"Ah. Let me guess. She told you how you were the best, right?" Bae chuckled.

Rumple cast his eyes heavenward. "I couldn't refuse her."

"Nobody can," Bae laughed. "But at least she comes by it honestly."

"What's _that_ supposed to mean, Baelfire?" Rumple demanded testily.

"Oh . . . well no one break deals with you, Papa. And no one refuses deals with _your_ granddaughter," Bae pointed out slyly.

"See? What did I tell you?" Belle gloated.

Rumple turned away, unwilling to admit they were right. Then he pointed at Tramp. "Scat, dog! Take a bath or something!"

Tramp shook his head, sneezed, then trotted out of the kitchen.

A few moments later they heard a loud splash, then Rhee calling, "Hey! What is this—a party?" from the bathroom.

"What happened?" Bae called up the stairs.

"Umm . . . Tramp jumped in the bathtub!"

Rumple groaned. _Somebody shoot me!_

And that was only the beginning.

 **A/N: Hope you liked this first part! What will happen now as Rumple now has a stray dog, a family of cats, plus a new baby to deal with as another storm hits? Hope he doesn't have kittens! Written for my good friend TS to cheer her up since her dad is in the hospital and hope her dad is better soon!**


	2. Who Let the Dogs Out?

**2**

 **Who Let the Dogs Out?**

Mr. Gold woke up early, though not by choice. Instead he was awakened somewhere around 4 AM by a paw smacking him across the nose, and when he opened his eyes it was to see a pair of green orbs gazing at him. "What the _hell_?" he muttered, rubbing his slightly stinging nose, as he realized the weight on his chest was Figaro sitting there, eyeing him like a statue of Bast come to life to scold her human underlings.

Figaro meowed stridently.

"Shh! You'll wake the baby and Belle!" he hissed, then removed the cat from his chest. "Of all the nerve!" he groused, rubbing his nose. Then he went downstairs to feed the hungry cat some cut up chicken, thinking he needed to go out and buy some pet food today, after he saw Tony. The cat rubbed up against his pajama clad legs, purring. Despite his annoyance, Rumple stroked his hand along the cat's back and she arched into his touch, her whole body vibrating with purrs.

"Smack me and then purr me to death, eh, girl?" he chuckled. "Here. Guess you need a lot of food because you're nursing. I know Belle does—and don't tell her I told you so."

He placed the bowl of shredded roasted chicken onto the counter and the cat jumped up on the counter and began eating hungrily.

Then Rumple went to get a few more hours of sleep before going to visit his neighbor.

Or at least what was what he wanted to do. Figaro leaped onto the bed again and made herself a space on his pillow, kneading his hair with her paws.

Feeling a tugging on his hair. Rumple opened his eyes to find Bast's feline incarnate plucking the hairs from his scalp. "Stop that!" he whispered. "D'ye intend to make me bald, cat! Go tend to your kittens!"

"Rumple...what's wrong?" Belle asked sleepily.

Carina cried from her crib.

"Oh now you've done it, cat."

Belle sat up and rubbed the sleep from her eyes. "Oh, how cute! She wants to sleep with you, Rumple!"

He scowled. "She has a litter that needs tending to, _that_ 's where she should be sleeping, not on my pillow and look...she's put holes in it...and torn out some of my hair!"

Figaro rubbed up against Belle's hand, purring like a rusty motor.

"Sure, butter up to her!' Rumple snorted, then froze when he felt something moving on his stomach. He sat up, his eyes bulging in shock, as he saw the four kittens curled up on his lap, sleeping contentedly. "Oh for the love of-!" he sputtered. "What do I look like-a nursemaid!"

"Meow!"

Belle giggled. "She must've carried them up here one at a time."

"And what, pray tell, was wrong with the box they were in?" grumbled her husband.

"I don't think there was anything wrong...she just wants to be near people. Animals are like that, darling."

"Oh . . well . . ." he sighed. "I suppose she can stay . . .just for tonight."

Just then Bae came in holding a fussing Carina, wearing a gray tank top and sweats, his hair sticking up. "Hey, Papa, your Sleeping Beauty woke up. I think she's hungry."

"No, the cat woke her up," his father insisted.

"No, she's hungry," Belle reached for her daughter. "Come here, sweetie."

Bae handed her his small sister. "There you go, sweetpea. Go to Mama."

Then he yawned and rubbed his eyes. "Man, I forgot what it was like to have a baby in the house."

"So did I," murmured his father. "And most of the time I was being mother and father to you."

Milah had refused to nurse her son, forcing Rumple to feed his son using goat's milk.

"I was lucky," his son admitted. "Better you than the harpy harlot." He pointed to the cat curled up in Rumple's lap around the kittens. "That cat is probably a better mama."

"Dearie, a serpent would have been more devoted," Rumple snorted.

Figaro hissed in agreement.

"I never realized just how much work it was taking care of a baby myself 'til I had Rhee. Sorcha and I shared it, but for the first few days after she was born, Sorcha slept and only woke up to feed her. I did the rest, even though we had servants."

""Now you know how difficult it was for me, Bae."

His son nodded. "Yeah and you had a bum leg too." Looking back at his childhood, the art professor realized he had never truly appreciated how hard his father had worked to raise him in a loving home, despite being his only parent and provider.

"You did good, Papa," he acknowledged. "I only hope Rhee thinks the same when she's grown. I still have to get through the Terrible Teens."

Rumple grimaced. "Don't remind me."

Belle started laughing.

He was going to have a difficult time of his own with his magical daughter at that age.

She kissed the top of her baby's head. "Mama loves you, lovebug. Even if you turn my hair gray."

"Mine will be white before she's eighteen!"

"I think I see some starting," Bae joked, pointing to the hair on Rumple's pillow.

"Keep it up, Bae and I'll turn _your_ hair white!"

"Simmer down, Papa!" his son held out his hands. "It was a joke! Sheesh!"

He swept the hair up and tossed it into the can beside the bed.

"Your papa's just tired...you know how cranky he gets then," Belle teased.

"Belle, I am _not_ cranky!" her husband refuted.

She frowned at him as did their daughter. "Yes you are. Now go back to sleep, darling."

Rumple huffed. "That's what I was trying to do before the walking advertisement for an Egyptian mummy woke me," he jerked his chin at Figaro.

Bae grinned. "Looks like she thinks you're a cat-tastic pillow, Papa! Soft and squishy!"

"Oh, go to bed, Baelfire!" his father ordered, rolling his eyes. "Soft and squishy my ass!"

"No comment!" Bae said, covering his mouth with his hand and escaping back to his room.

Just as Belle murmured, " _You_ might not think so, sweetheart, But I think you're adorably soft and squishy . . .in all the right places," she crooned with a seductive smirk and cuddled up next to him on the pillow.

Then she slyly slipped a hand under the covers and pinched a certain part of his anatomy.

"Belle!"

"Hmmm?" she gave him an angelic smile.

"You just pinched my ass!"

"I'm allowed to."

"But . . .I thought with the baby nursing and all . . . you didn't . . .I mean you weren't interested . . ."

"I think you need to do a bit of reading, Rumple..." she murmured

A red flush crept up his cheeks. "What sort of reading are we talking about here?"

"Not all nursing mothers ignore their husbands after giving birth...in fact...I'm a bit tired of waiting."

He gaped at her. "You . . . you are? . . . I figured you wouldn't want me to . . .so soon after the baby was born . . .Milah kicked me out of her bed as soon as I was able to get around on my stick, told me the last thing she wanted was me pawing at her and to . . . " he flushed even redder recalling exactly what his wife had told him to go do with himself.

"You can paw at me as much as you like. I've asked the doctor and was told we could..."

Now it was her turn to blush as she recalled the day she'd had that conversation, thinking the doctor would be shocked.

She was finding out that the doctors in this world were a bit more open about such issues.

"In that case, dearie . . ." he gave her a deliciously dark grin. "As soon as we rid this bed of cats and babies . . ."

Figaro was less than pleased to find herself and her kittens being exiled back to their box but once she sensed why, she offered no further complaints. Humans needed to mate as animals did and preferably in private.

Belle put a sleeping Carina back in her crib, tucking her in lovingly. "Sleep tight, Princess Dearie, but now it's time for your mama to have some fun with her beloved Gold One!"

Rumple giggled from the bed. "Oh you're going to have fun all right!"

Belle wiggled her hips provocatively. "Miss me, sweetheart?" she queried sassily.

"Like a beanstalk needs water," he purred, his eyes at half mast as he gave her a sizzling look from beneath his lashes. Then he crooked a finger at her. "C'mere, my brilliant bookworm and I'll show you just how much."

"You'll have a lot of layers to uncover..." she cooed.

"Good. Because love is a mystery that I cannot wait to uncover . . ." he said and pulled her onto the bed, where he began to slowly remove the first layer of the silk pegnoir she wore, showering her with kisses that was the prelude to him taking her to somewhere only they knew.

As she melted into his embrace, she thought of how lucky she was to have found this man, and brought him to life, and earned his love and respect. He was hotter than hell, sweeter than chocolate, darkly delightful and no one else's but hers-forever.

"I missed you, Rumple," she whispered as she nibbled his ear.

"Aye, dearie, I ken," he replied back, his dialect emerging as it always did in the throes of passion. She loved his cultured velvet tones but found his burr equally sexy and delightful to listen to.

"One of these days I am dressing you in a kilt..." she murmured.

"One of these days, dearie, I might humor ye . . ." he growled playfully.

Then he began to kiss her passionately and soon her mind ceased to think rationally and all she could do was feel as if she had flown off the top of a mountain as he skillfully and sweetly loved her, one layer at a time.

 **Page~*~*~*~Break**

 _NYU Hospital:_

"What? _Santa Maria_! My Figaro is a lady cat?" gasped Tony, his jaw dropping to the sheet as he lay there with his foot in a splint.

"You mean you didn't know?" Rumple coughed.

"No . . .I thought he . . .I mean she . . . was a boy, I found her wet and cold on my porch one day and I thought she was a boy that's why I called her Figaro. And I thought she was eating too much linguini with clam sauce and whatever else she hunted for when she managed to get out of the shop. _Capice_?"

"Oh, I understand," Gold assured him, grinning. "So how long do you have to stay here?"

"The doctor says a week . . .since besides my ankle I have a respiratory infection and I have no one home to assist me and with another storm setting up . . .it's best I stay here. So I'm very glad, _paisan_ , that you are taking care of my pets."

Gold looked embarrassed. "Well, what could I do? I brought them all to my house. So they'll be looked after for as long as you need. Oh and my granddaughter was wondering if she might have one of the kittens when it's older."

"Of course! The girl saved my life, she can take as many as she wants!" Tony thrust out his hands expressively.

"Just one will be plenty," Gold said quickly. "I'll tell her when I go home. How are you feeling?"

The little storekeeper shrugged. "Okay, I guess. I'm still here."

"And that's the important thing," Rumple said sincerely. He thought of how that day could have ended very differently, with a tragedy. He clasped his friend's hand. "Feel better, dearie. I'll keep you informed about the dog and the cat." _And the state of my sanity_ , he thought wryly as he left the hospital.

When he returned home with some pet food, he found Belle in the kitchen along with Rhee, helping her grandmother make breakfast.

Tramp lay under the table, Figaro was in her box, licking her lips.

Carina was in her infant seat, playing with her toes while Bae nursed a cup of coffee and frowned at his iPhone. "Good thing you got back when you did, Papa. There's gonna be another storm system coming in a few hours."

"Do they say how much we're gonna get, Dad?" Rhee asked, sounding vastly unconcerned. "Maybe we can build a snow fort."

"Six to eight inches," he replied.

"That would be wonderful, honey but with that much snow . . . I worry for our neighbors who will try to shovel out," Belle said softly.

"Yeah . . .and the snow crews are already overworked," Bae sighed.

"How's Tony?" Belle asked as she set the egg, cheese, and bacon sandwiches down on the table.

Rumple told her, then went to get some coffee.

Carina wailed loudly from her infant seat.

Bae got up to get the honey for his tea, and Rhee to get the carton of orange juice. Belle went to her daughter. "What's wrong, sweetie?" she asked, picking her up. "Looks like someone needs a new diaper."

She went to put the baby on the couch and change her, leaving the table unoccupied.

Figaro climbed out of her box and jumped onto the table and started nibbling on a piece of bacon on Belle's plate.

Tramp also sensed an opportunity and jumped up on Rumple's chair and began wolfing down his sandwich.

"No! Down! Down!" Belle cried when she returned to the kitchen with Carina.

"Aww sh...crap!" Bae groaned. "C'mon, you mutt, off the table!"

Tramp growled and barked at him as he tried to reach for the plate.

"Hey, Sid Vicious, that's not for you!"

Rhee picked up Figaro and put her back in her box.

Bae was having a difficult time with Tramp, the dog sinking his teeth into the plastic plate and refusing to let go of it, forcing his human nemesis into a game of Tug of War.

"C'mon...gimme it! There's nothing on it now!"

"What's gotten into him?" Rhee asked, puzzled.

"I don't know!"

"Give me that plate right now!" Rumple ordered. The dog growled and turned his head with the plate still in his mouth.

Tramp jumped down and ran into the living room with his treasure.

Father and son cornered the dog behind the sofa. "All right now enough of this, dearie."

Bae advanced toward the dog, his feet inches away from the plate. Tramp, snarled, bared his teeth and bit the side of Bae's boot.

"No!" Rhee snapped, her voice soft yet commanding. "No biting Dad!" Her amber eyes glinted oddly.

"Bae, move away from the plate," Belle called. "I think . . .he thinks you're gonna take the food away and he . . .he's a stray and strays have to fight for food."

"Yeah but there's nothing on it!"

Rhee realized her grandmother was right. The dog wasn't being mean, he was terrified the food was going to be taken from him. "How about we make a deal, Tramp?" she coaxed and got some bacon off of her plate and held it out to the dog. "Here. You get the bacon and I get the plate. Deal?"

The dog lowered his head obediently and dropped the plate.

"Good boy!" she praised and gave him the bacon, taking the empty plate back. "See? That wasn't so bad, was it?"

"Says the granddaughter of the best dealmaker in the realms," Bae replied.

"The thread doesn't fall far from the spool," Belle chuckled.

"Belle, how did you know about why he was attacking Bae?" Rumple asked curiously.

"I watch Animal Planet," his wife replied serenely. "And there was a special on about fostering strays and that was one thing that was brought up-how some strays are possessive of their food because they have to fight off other dogs in order to eat."

"What was that name you called him before?" Rumple queried.

"Sid Vicious...after the singer in the Sex Pistols."

Rumple's eyes rose into his hair. "You're crazy, Bae!"

"I coulda called him Cujo!"

"Dad! He doesn't have rabies," Rhee objected.

"No but boy does he get mean like that dog!"

"Only when you try and take his food," Rhee explained.

"Rumple, I'll make you a new sandwich," Belle promised. She set Carina down in her infant seat.

"And I'll let Tramp outside," Rhee said, and called to the dog. "You wanna go outside, boy?"

Tramp whuffed and followed Rhee to the door and she let him out, petting him.

Rumple had just bitten into his new sandwich, chewing appreciatively upon the egg, cheese, and bacon inbetween an English muffin when Tramp scratched at the door to come back in.

"I'll let him in," Bae said, rising.

He opened the door and before he could stop the dog, Tramp raced into the kitchen, his wet snowy paws skidding on the polished wooden floor.

"Hey! Hey, you mangy mutt!" Bae cried.

Tramp began barking loudly and running about the table, leaving muddy tracks on the clean floor.

Rumple was appalled. "Blasted dog!"

"My clean floor!" Belle moaned.

Chaos reigned in the kitchen for several minutes and Carina giggled, clapping her hands.

"STOP!" Rumple ordered in his Dark One voice.

Tramp froze like he'd been magicked.

Bae goggled. It was like when you freeze framed a DVD and all the participants froze in the act of whatever they were doing. The dog did the same thing, with one paw raised as he raced around the table.

"Gotcha!" Bae said and threw a towel around the dog. "Sorry, Papa, he got away from me before I could wipe his paws."

Belle glanced about the floor in dismay. Muddy wet paw prints were everywhere. It looked like a pack of dogs had stampeded through the formerly neat kitchen.

While Belle cleaned the kitchen Rhee entertained Carina with a DVD of some of her favorite cartoons. She seemed to enjoy watching Tom and Jerry the most and even Figaro looked up from her box to watch.

'Hey Rhee, you got Crambo on there?" her father asked.

"Umm Dad it's called Pecos Pest, not Crambo!" Rhee corrected.

Rumple looked up from the crime novel he was reading at the other end of the sofa, a plaid blanket wrapped about his lean frame. "Pecos Bill?" he repeated, puzzled.

"Kinda. Here, I'll play it."

Bae started laughing once the mouse who was Jerry's uncle began to sing, stuttering as he did so.

"Frog went a courtin, he did ride, C...C...Crambo..."

Carina smiled and started clapping in time with the music.

Rumple chuckled from the sofa. "Better not quit your day job, dearie,"

"You like that, don't you, Rina?" Rhee cooed. "But wait till you see what else happens!"

"Can't sing without a string!"

The mouse's guitar string broke and spotting the cat sleeping out in the other room, he ran out and yanked one of Tom's whiskers off, using it for a replacement.

Carina squealed with laughter.

The string broke several more times while Tom tried desperately to hide from the determined mouse but each time it caught up with him until he finally had a whisker to leave with.

"Here comes the best part," Bae laughed.

"Shh...Dad let her watch it."

Pecos was now on television and just as he started his song his string broke again. The cat sitting on the sofa with Jerry laughed hysterically until an arm came through the television and yanked another whisker from the cat's face.

Carina giggled hysterically.

"I laughed my butt off the first time I saw this on YouTube," Bae said to his father.

Rumple's eyes were dancing with his old impish flair. "I can see why."

"Yeah these classic cartoons are really funny. You have Is You Is Or Is You Ain't My Baby on there too?"

"Dad, it's not called that either!"

"So? Tom sings it doesn't he? Do you have it?"

"Yeah."

"Let's see that one next," Rumple suggested, and made room for Belle to come and snuggle next to him.

Tom was using his feet and hands to play a cello while he serenaded a feline in the house next door and Jerry living a hole below became agitated when he was woken from his sleep. Carina giggled watching the mouse being bounced around by the music.

"You can serenade me anytime," Belle whispered to her husband.

"I'll have to get out my guitar, dearie," he drawled. He snapped his fingers and a vintage Martin acoustic appeared in his lap. Then he set his fingers to the strings and began to play a familiar tune.

 _"Highway run into the midnight sun_

 _Wheels go 'round and 'round, you're on my mind_

 _Restless hearts sleep alone tonight_

 _Sendin' all my love along the wire_

 _They say that the road ain't no place to start a family_

 _Right down the line it's been you and me_

 _And lovin' a music man ain't always what it's supposed to be_

 _Oh, girl you stand by me, I'm forever yours, faithfully..."_

Rhee gaped. "Dad! You never told me Grandpa could play the guitar and sing!"

"And I didn't think you knew what Journey was!" Bae exclaimed, impressed.

His father stilled his hand upon the strings, and tore his gaze away from his wife to say, "I didn't spend 28 years here and become deaf, blind, and dumb, Baelfire."

"I know but...I thought you'd be more into Sinatra or something."

"I like Old Blue Eyes too," Rumple acknowledged. "But that song speaks to me."

"Where'd you learn to play like that?" Rhee asked, awed.

"Well, I saved a minstrel once, he went by the name of Alan a'Dale," Rumple answered. "In return for his life, which I saved by giving him a potion to ward off the bitter cold he had developed when I found him half frozen in my barn, he taught me how to play the guitar and the mandolin. I was born able to carry a tune, dearie."

"You know Hotel California?" Bae asked hopefully.

"Eagles? Yes, I know that," his father replied. Then he began to play a tribute to Glenn Frey, who had recently passed away.

"You Belong To The City was my favorite from his solo stuff," Bae said softly.

As Rumple began to sing another song, Carina began to drool as she watched the repeating cartoon of Tom and Jerry.

Tramp sat back on his haunches and leaned forward to lick her face.

The baby's attention was suddenly caught by the bristly whiskers on the dog's face.

She reached out to try to yank one out and as soon as her small fingers touched it, it turned to chocolate.

Tramp whimpered. Carina grinned and her chubby fingers brushed more of his whiskers, turning each one to chocolate.

"What's the matter, Tramp...oh my God! Grandpa, look!" Rhee exclaimed.

"Holy shi-crap, Papa!" Bae almost choked on his cocoa. "Your little dearie has made a chocolate whisker terrier!"

The poor dog was sitting before the giggling little imp, all six of his chocolate whiskers drooping, looking utterly bewildered.

"Oh, Rumple! He looks-bewitched, bothered, and bewildered!" Belle couldn't help snickering.

The master sorcerer handed his wife his Martin. "Oh dearie dearie dear! Carina, little scamp, what have you done, hmm?"

She pointed to the TV.

Rumple hit himself in the forehead. "Ay yi yi!"

"Can you change him back, Grandpa?" asked Rhee, concerned.

"Hmm . . .yes. It just might take a little bit of doing," he murmured, then beckoned the dog over and put his hands upon the chocolate whiskers and concentrated hard, calling upon his own magic. Golden light sparkled from his hands and then Tramp's Godiva whiskers were back to normal-but not before Bae had snapped a photo on his phone.

Tramp breathed a sigh of relief. Carina stuck her lower lip out and pouted sulkily.

Abruptly, her soft toy ladybug that hung on the edge of the handle of her seat became solid chocolate and she frowned at her father.

"Uh oh...better watch out Papa...Lady Godiva is on the loose!"

Rumple just groaned. "Why me?" he muttered. "She's not even two months old and already she's having a battle of wills with me." He gestured and the ladybug became a toy again. "Now, that's enough, little scamp."

The baby blew a raspberry at him.

"Now sweetie, don't be fussy. Here, let's watch some more Tom and Jerry."

Watching her favorite cat and mouse trying to outwit each other onscreen seemed to amuse her until she dozed off in her seat.

It began to snow an hour later. Rhee looked out the window. "Dad, remember when you pulled me on my little sled down the street a few years back?"

"Yeah but I don't think we can do that yet."

As the snow fell in larger flakes, Tramp ran to the window and began barking excitedly.

"You wanna go play in the snow, Tramp?" Rhee asked him.

"Take him outside, Rhee, before he wakes Carina," Bae told her. He leaned back on the couch and began to flick through the channels. Rumple and Belle had also dozed off, cuddled beneath the tartan blanket of purple, gold, and blue-the Gold tartan.

Tramp whined excitedly as the girl pulled on her coat and mittens and tugged her cap over her ears.

"Hold your horses, Tramp. I don't have fur like you!"

The dog panted, his soulful brown eyes sparkling as he raced back and forth from the door.

"Okay, let's go!"

Tramp waltzed in a circle before jumping out the door into the snow, barking like a gleeful child released from school. Rhee grinned. "You sure you aren't part husky?"

The child made snowballs for the gray terrier mix to chase and then made snow angels in the virgin snow, her hair a dark splash against the pristine whiteness.

Bae glanced out the window to see his daughter and Tramp romping through the drifts, and he went to peer out, his eyes misting as he thought about how much his baby girl reminded him of her late mother, who had loved snow, storms, and all kinds of weather, her hair whipping in tangles about her head, as wild as the moors over which she held dominion.

He recalled their last winter together and how she'd coaxed him into helping her making angels in the snow.

 _"Mine's gonna look like crap," he complained._

 _"You won't know unless you try."_

 _"Okay but don't say I didn't warn you."_

 _He lay next to her, watching as she waved her arms and legs in the snow forming a perfect angel, mimicking her movements. Afterwards he rose to his feet and grimaced. "Umm...mine looks like...I dunno what it looks like..."_

 _"It looks wonderful, Neal!"_

 _You always did see the bright side of everything_ , _Sorcha,_ he thought.

 _And your daughter is just like you._

He smiled as Rhee was tackled by Tramp and fell headlong into a snow drift, laughing.

An elderly woman walking back to her apartment carrying grocery bags in her arms stopped to watch the two at play, smiling to herself. It was rare for her to see young children playing outdoors these days when there were things like gaming systems and computers that kept them indoors.

Bae's gaze was suddenly drawn to the snow spitting sky, and as he looked up the large shape of a white trumpeter swan glided low over the rooftops, and honked softly, flying three times about the young swanmay and her canine companion.

Bae lifted his hand in a wave _. Hey, Sorcha! You never forget, do you?_

 _I am with you, my spinner boy. Always._

The sweet echo of her voice whispered in his head, the same voice he heard in his dreams and would forevermore _. I love you, swanmay._

It was a love that transcended death, and though her body was no more, her spirit lived still in the Land of Dreams, and in dreams they were together again, as they had been in life. It was not precisely what either of them had longed for when Angus Og had given them his blessing, but it was better than never seeing each other again until he joined her.

Rhee watched her mother's familiar fly away, brushing tears from her eyes. "I miss you Mama."

 _Take care of your father for me._

"I will. Love you."

Once it started getting dark Rhee took the dog back into the house. Her grandparents were awake and Rumple was in the kitchen preparing dinner while Belle stayed in the living room with Carina and Bae, Figaro and the kittens napping beside Belle on the sofa.

"Dad, I think I'm gonna pick this calico one," Rhee told Bae, pointing to the calico snoozing inbetween her mother's paws. "Grandpa said Tony agreed I could have a kitten."

"Okay...what are you gonna call it? You don't know if it's a girl or boy yet?"

"Yes, I do. It's a she. Calicos are almost always girls." Rhee explained. "Right, Figaro?"

"Meow!"

"See? She says I'm right," the girl asserted.

"All right, swanmay, if you insist." Bae laughed.

She looked at Belle. "Grammy, what should I name her?"

Belle thought, then recalled one of the last fantasy authors she had read recently. "How about Amberle?" she offered, from _Elfstones of Shannara_ by Terry Brooks. "Or you could ask your grandpa."

"Grandpa, what do you think of Amberle for my kitten?" Rhee asked him when she entered the kitchen.

"Hmmm….from _Elfstones of Shannara_. Excellent choice, dearie," he murmured.

"It was Grammy's idea."

Rumple nodded knowing his wife was as much a fan of Terry Brooks' work as he was and there were many nights when one of them would read chapters from the book to the other before bed so that they were both at the same place and couldn't reveal spoilers. "Your grammy knows I consider names to be very important, they must always have a special meaning and in some cases they can be quite powerful as you know from my talking about the curse on Storybrooke."

"You used Emma Swan's name as a talisman to recover your lost memories."

"Right. And I wrote it down on a piece of parchment in my cell, with squid ink found only in the squids of Neverland and that squid ink has many uses including the ability to freeze magical creatures for a short period of time. I brought some with me in case we ever need it but I'm hoping we don't. Dinner's ready!" he called out. "Do you want to help me get everything organized?"

"Sure."

As they sat down to dinner, Bae couldn't help remembering how his father always tried to make it a grand affair even when he had nothing but leftovers for them and he even had his creative ways of making them taste as pleasing on the second day as they had been on the first day. Figaro and Tramp lay down underneath the table, waiting patiently for one of the humans to offer them at least a tiny morsel. When they were all finished, they each placed an item on a plate for the dog and cat to eat and made certain the plates were not close enough to each other that Tramp wouldn't attack again.

As they cleaned up from dinner, snow fell in swaths and recovered what the plows had uncovered until the city streets were once again underneath a wintery blanket, and once again schools, universities, subways, trains, buses, and stores were closed and commerce ground to a halt due to the second blizzard of the year.

 **A/N: Hope you all liked! More is coming up, as Rumple goes to check his shop, something unforeseen and unexpected occurs, and Tony gives his neighbor a thank you gift. Thanks everyone for reading an reviewing!**


	3. Sweet Revenge

**3**

 **Sweet Revenge**

Rumple finished up his email correspondence on his computer while his baby girl napped upstairs. He logged off the computer and went down to get some lunch, figuring he may as well eat something as long as Belle, Bae, and Rhee were off grocery shopping. He had just finished grilling up a bacon and tomato grilled cheese sandwich and putting it on a plate with some chips and pickles when a knock sounded at the door.

He bit back a sigh of annoyance. Why was it people tended to show up at the most inopportune moments. He huffed and snapped his fingers, casting a simple Keep Warm spell over his lunch, because he didn't want it to become cold. Beneath the table, Tramp whuffed and scrambled to his feet, following Rumple to the door of the brownstone.

"Stay!" he ordered the dog as he opened the door, to reveal two rather odd looking fellows wearing black trousers, work boots and blue shirts with the logo NYCEC stenciled upon them. "Yes? Can I help you?"

"You're Mr. Gold, roight?" queried the skinner of the two men, with a long face and wispy brown hair. He had a thick London Cockney accent, which seemed to remind Rumple of someone, but at the moment he couldn't place it.

"I am. Is there something I can do for you?"

"We're from the . . . err . . .electric company, sent out by the city to . . .err . . .inspect the electrical lines and make sure they're runnin' right after the blizzard," explained the shorter and broader of the two. The tag on his uniform read _Horace._

"We never lost power here," Mr. Gold explained. "Unlike half the other residents of the city."

"Well, it doesn't hurt to check," the taller man coughed. "May we come in?"

Gold lofted an eyebrow. "Come in? But the electrical box is outside," he reminded them.

"Oy! Jasper, you dummy!" the other man grunted, rolling his eyes.

The taller man grew flustered and embarrassed. "Err . . roight, o'course. We'll be off to see to it then." With rather sudden haste, he turned around and his companion followed, and they strode over to the half buried electrical box with some kind of metal instrument, doubtless whatever they used these days to measure electrical currents.

Gold swiftly shut the door, not wanting cold air to get in and locked it. Then he went back to eating his lunch, while outside a whispered conversation between the two workers took place.

"You idiot, why didn't you remember the electrical box is outside?" hissed Horace.

Jasper glared at him. "Shut up, 'orace! You got no call t' lambast me when _I'm_ the brains o' this outfit!" He jerked a thumb at himself. "Now, here's wot we'll do. Cripple Gold is home alone, I saw t'others go out earlier, an' they ain't back yet. I know he's got blunt stashed in that 'ouse, on account o' who he used t' be—the richest cove in Storybrooke. And _we're_ gonna get it!"

"But how, Jasper? We done already messed up!" groaned his plump partner in crime.

"Now, you just leave everything up to me," Jasper said slyly. "We need another reason t'enter the 'ouse . . ." he scratched his head. "I got it! We'll be repairmen from the gas company an' the boiler is _in_ the 'ouse. Once we're inside, we case the place an' take what we can."

"But Jasoer, Gold is home! What if he catches us?" Horace shuddered.

"So what? He's an old bugger, 'orace! Not what he was back in Storybrooke! You saw 'im! He's nothin' but a crippled coward now. He got no magic!"

"But . . .but . . .the Cap'n went after him months ago . . .and he never returned!" Horace shuddered.

Jasper shrugged. "Prolly livin' it up 'ere, is all! You know how 'e was when 'e got into port. Headed roight fer the bar an' the doxies! Anyhow, we ain't 'ere to find the Cap'n, 'e can take care o' 'imself. _Us_ —now _we_ need the dough! We're practically starvin'!"

Horace still looked uneasy. "Jasper, are you _sure_ we can do this? I mean—it's _Mr. Gold_."

Jasper rolled his eyes in exasperation. "Who is naught but a crippled _coward_ here. 'e can't even _walk_! What's 'e gonna do—hit us wit his cane?" Jasper laughed hysterically. "An even _you're_ faster than that old bugger!"

Horace still didn't like the idea, but he went along with his buddy because they did need the money—to pay back what they owed Pegleg Pete the bo'sun aboard the Roger from the last game of poker. And if Jasper was right, this job should be as easy as taking candy from a baby.

About an hour later, just as Rumple was reading the paper, looking at the Want Ads for anyone advertising new estate sales with antiques, there came another knock on the door. Tramp raced to it, barking.

"Quiet!" Gold ordered sternly. "You'll wake up Carina."

The mutt subsided, looking slightly abashed.

Gold opened the door to find two different repairmen on the porch. "What is this? Visit every house on this street day?" he asked, semi-sarcastically. "I didn't call anybody to repair anything."

"Sorry, sir. It's a city ordinance," coughed a short man with a beard. "Just doing our jobs, sir."

"Oh? And where are you from?"

"The gas company," Horace said, and showed him a fake paper which they had printed off of a website. "We just wanna inspect your boiler, make sure it's working okay."

"It is," Gold said impatiently.

"But sir, it'll only take a moment of your time. Just a quick look see."

"Fine, I'll humor you. But please be quiet, my wee daughter's asleep," he cautioned, stepping back to let them inside. He was slightly suspicious, but since he was right in the house, they wouldn't dare try anything. He led them to where the stairs were leading down to the basement. "Down there, gentlemen."

As they all descended the steps, Carina chose at that moment to wake up.

She set up a howl that would have frightened a banshee.

"Excuse me," Gold said, and limped back upstairs to get his daughter.

As soon as the limping antique store owner's footsteps had faded away, Horace and Jasper bolted up the steps and went to search the downstairs.

They found very little of value in the kitchen and the den, except some small antiques in an alcove curio shelf.

Jasper took them and stuffed them in his pockets. "C'mon! I bet he keeps the cash upstairs!"

"In his office!" Horace grinned and they crept up the stairs.

They could hear Gold talking to his daughter down the hall, singing some silly song. In spite of himself, Horace began to bob his head and tap his foot in time to the catchy tune.

Jasper turned and whacked him across the back of the head. "Idiot! Quit acting like a loony and do what we came 'ere for!"

Horace gave him a sheepish grin and they entered Gold's study, where he had been on his computer a few hours before. Figaro had been napping on his chair when the two thieves snuck into the room, and she darted underneath the chair at their approach. She hated strangers.

Jasper quickly looked in the desk and felt around for any secret drawers where cash might be hidden. Horace looked through the bookshelf, which contained many rare classics and antique guides as well as law texts and the folk tales, mythology, and fairy tales of all the various cultures of this world. "Find anything yet?" hissed the lean man.

"Umm . . . no," Horace whispered, then he moved a Queen Anne chair and quite by accident triggered the hidden pressure plate in the floor beneath it.

A section of the wall opened to reveal a small safe!

"Jasper, we hit the jackpot!" Horace giggled. "Looky here!"

Jasper spun around. "Crikey! But we don't 'ave time to crack it now. Get some rope on it an' lower it out t'window! Hurry!"

While Horace tied the safe with some rope they had brought, and then hooked it up to a pulley and then opened the window as wide as it would go, Jasper continued ransacking the desk, hoping to find a sack of gold or jewels somewhere. His elbow bumped into the photo cube Belle had given Rumple for Christmas, sending it crashing to the ground.

The noise brought Tramp to investigate.

Under Gold's leather chair, Figaro hissed and darted out from beneath it.

Tramp began growling as soon as he saw the intruders, sensing they were not supposed to be there and he flew at Jasper with a snarl, biting the man's thigh and backside, as the thief was bent over the desk, searching it.

"Ahhhoww!" screeched the burglar. "Bloody mutt! Geroff!"

But Tramp continued to tear at his trousers, and Jasper cried, " 'orace! You bloody idiot! 'elp me!"

Horace was trying to slowly lower the safe out the window, slowly playing out the rope. The safe was heavy and seat was dripping into the fat thief's eyes. "I-I c-can't, Jasper!" he whimpered. "I gotta make sure the loot's down!"

A furious Jasper grasped the desk and managed to kick Tramp hard in the ribs with his other foot, which was clad in a steel toed working boot.

The kick caught the dog in the ribs and sent the stray flying into the chair opposite with a yelp. Then he lay still.

"Take that, you mangy—"

"What in the _hell_ is going on here?" demanded Rumple icily, appearing in the study entrance, one hand cradling Carina and the other gripping his cane.

His eyes took in the ransacked study and the two robbers trying to steal his safe and whatever else they could find and narrowed in fury. "Why you dirty rotten lying scoundrels!" he spat, and started to come into the room.

Jasper snarled, "Get the safe out, you bumbling idiot!" to his partner.

Horace started to peer out the window to see if the safe had reached the ground, but just as he took a step towards the window, Figaro ran beneath his feet and he tripped over her.

The cat screeched, and Horace, already off balance from tripping, and trying to hang onto the rope, was dragged out the window. He fell to the ground with a scream and a loud thud.

Figaro scurried under the Queen Anne chair and began to groom herself rapidly, looking smug.

"Aww, bloody _'ell!_ " Jasper groaned, then he jerked up from the desk, drawing the small revolver in his pocket. " 'ands up, Gold! And no funny business! Or else I blow yer brains in!"

Rumple froze, in the act of groping for his cell phone, only to recall it was downstairs on the kitchen table. It was then he recognized the man by his accent. "You were here before!" he sputtered.

"Yup, an' you didn't recollect me on account of my 'at an' new clothes," Jasper snickered. "Put 'em up!"

"I can't, you oaf!" Gold grumbled. "I have a baby in one arm and I need my cane." He sounded irritable as hell but in reality he was scared to death. If the gun went off—he or Carina could be killed.

"Oh . .. err . . .well get over here an' tell me the combo to the safe!" Jasper blustered, the gun still pointing unerringly at the other man.

"You want me to tell you the combination to my safe?" Gold gasped. "The one your fellow burglar threw out the window?"

"That's right, guv," Jasper nodded. "Now c'mere and tell me . . . or else your bitty baby there is gonna be celebrating her first funeral."

Gold was appalled. He clutched Carina tighter. "You'd kill a baby?" The baby began to whimper, frightened by the stranger and how her papa was behaving.

Jasper just glared at him, his eyes colder than the winter wind. "Start talking."

"O-Okay," Rumple stammered, falling back upon his old cowardly persona. If he could manage to get close enough for Carina to touch the gun, she might just be able to turn it to chocolate, he thought frantically. He dare not try and cast a spell with the gun trained on him, his control over his new magic was not as fine as he liked and this was no time to attempt something that might end in tragedy. The thief had the eyes of a stone cold murderer, and Gold sensed that Jasper wouldn't hesitate to pull the trigger. Nothing was sacred or beyond this one. "I . . .I'm g-gonna whisper it in your ear. It's s-s-ecret," he made his voice tremble and he shook as he came over to the thief. "Just don't hurt my b-baby, p-p-please!"

Jasper grinned a gap toothed grin as the cowardly pawnbroker leaned forward to whisper the code, then as the baby got nearer, had an even more diabolical idea, and lunged, pulling Carina from her papa's grasp!

" _No!_ " Rumple screamed, almost falling because he was trying to grab Carina away.

Carina began screaming fit to wake the dead, utterly petrified.

Jasper backed away with the screeching infant in his arm. "Now _talk_ , Daddy! Before your little princess goes bye-bye!"

Gold began to say the combination, which was his and Rhee's and Carina's birthdays , his heat slamming in a staccato beat in his ribcage. "Look, Jasper, put the baby down. I'll give you whatever you want just don't hurt her!" he pleaded.

Jasper began to laugh wickedly. "That's roight, coward! Always knew you were yellow, Gold!" he shook the baby sharply. "Quiet, brat!" he roared menacingly.

The petrified Carina's magic suddenly roused, as it sensed dire peril, and the baby wailed and grabbed Jasper's nose, her magic exploding from her.

Rumple gaped as golden sparkles drifted over the thief . . .and his skin began to rapidly become a dark cocoa brown as Carina's fledgling power transmuted the armed robber into two hundred and ten pounds of unsweetened Godiva chocolate.

In moments the still sobbing magical prodigy was being held by a chocolate statue of Jasper, armed with a chocolate Smith and Wesson.

"Carina!" Rumple cried, and went to pry his baby from the grasp of the statue, nearly breaking off some of its fingers in the process. He held his tiny daughter close, rocking her and whispering, "It's okay, dearie! Your papa's here! No one's gonna hurt you!"

After several long minutes, Carina quit howling and began sucking her thumb. A still stunned Rumple managed to put her in the small bouncy seat he had in the office and then went to kneel beside the stricken Tramp.

"Poor fellow!" he crooned. "You tried to stop them, didn't you?" To his astonishment, the dog was still breathing.

He concentrated, and healing magic flowed through his fingers.

Tramp opened his eyes and licked Gold's hand.

"There's a good laddie!" Gold grinned and caressed the wiry head.

Tramp jumped to his feet, and began to bark at the chocolate statue.

"Yes, I know, I know. He doesn't belong here." Rumple sighed, wondering if he should tie the bastard up before restoring him to his rightful self.

He bent to pick up Carina and put her in the Snuggli he fetched from the nursery, then carried her downstairs looking for some rope when the door opened and his family came in.

"Papa, what's going on?" Bae asked. "I can hear sirens coming down the street and Rhee said we needed to get home right away."

"Grandpa, I Saw some crazy man with a gun doing a hold up with you!" Rhee cried, running over to hug him.

"Rumple, are you all right?" Belle cried, dropping the groceries on the floor.

"I am now, dearie. But . . . well . . . there was a robbery . . . and one of the thieves is still upstairs—"

" _What_!" Bae roared.

"—in my study doing an imitation of a Hershey bar," Rumple quipped.

Belle's mouth gaped open. "You mean—he's a—a—chocolate statue?"

"Carina did it, right?" Rhee cried. "Because he was gonna hurt you!"

"Actually, he was going to shoot her, if I didn't tell him the password to my safe," Rumple corrected.

"Holy sh—crap, Papa!" his son exclaimed. "So what are we gonna do now with the Cadbury Thief upstairs? The cops'll be here any minute."

"I know!" Belle cried, and grabbed a sheet from the dryer.

After the police, who had been called by a concerned neighbor in the back of them, who had seen the safe and then what looked like a person jump out the window, had hauled away Horace, who as it turned out was not dead, but merely unconscious and suffering from a broken arm and a bump on the head, Belle had unveiled the chocolate statue which they had hauled into the spare bedroom and draped with a sheet then stuck in the closet.

Rumple had given a description of Jasper to the police during his statement, explaining that the sound of the sirens and his dog's bold attack of the thief had driven him off, he'd run out the door before they got there, and Detective Gibbs had assured him they would put out a bulletin on Jasper, as well as questioning his partner when he awoke. Horace would be charged with breaking and entering, larceny, and accessory to armed robbery. There was little doubt in the detective's mind that they would get a conviction and Horace would do time for his felony. The police checked the yard thoroughly but found no sign of Jasper about.

Bae went and tapped the chocolate statue on the head, whistling. "It's solid chocolate, Papa! Thought it'd be hollow."

"It should be," Rumple snorted. He rolled up his sleeves. "Better tie that rope tight, Bae. When I change him back, I want to make sure he can't run."

"I did, Papa," Bae assured him. "Trust me, I know my knots." That was one thing he had learned on Neverland.

Carina, who was being held by Rhee, scowled at the statue. Her niece chuckled. "Yeah, I know. He oughta stay like that, but . . . that wouldn't be right."

Rumple touched the statue, willing it back into a person.

But nothing happened.

Frowning, he tried again.

Still nothing.

"Rumple, what's the matter?" Belle asked, concerned.

"It's . . . not working!" he cried, frustrated.

"Papa, are you sure you're—uh—doing it right?" Bae queried.

Rumple shot his son a Look of vast annoyance. "Of course I'm sure! I've done this spell hundreds of times since your little sister came home and her powers emerged. If I didn't, we'd be living in a chocolate house!"

"But how come you can't do it now?" wondered Belle.

Rumple frowned. "I don't know," he admitted.

Over the next three days, he tried every spell he knew and also brewed up potions to sprinkle on the chocolate statue, all to no effect. The thief remained chocolate, and at last Rumple had to admit that perhaps the magic, in its own way, had meted out a kind of final justice to the man who would have slaughtered a wee babe in cold blood.

It also meant, he thought resignedly, he would have to make certain his little dearie never became that petrified again, and he would make sure she understood that using her magic on a person that way was forbidden.

"But I can't really feel all that sorry for the bounder," he told Belle later on that day after his twentieth failed attempt.

"Neither can I." Belle murmured, shuddering at how close her precious baby and her husband had been to getting killed in their own home. "But what do we do with—it—him, Rumple?"

"Well, dearie, that presents a bit of a problem," her husband admitted.

"Actually, Grandpa, we could donate him," suggested Rhee.

"Donate him?" the sorcerer repeated. "To what? The grand opening for a candy factory?"

"No," Rhee pulled the paper towards her and pointed to a new ad.

Rumple's eyebrows went up. Then he began to giggle wickedly. There was no doubt about it—this was _his_ granddaughter.

Three days later, there was an article in the paper stating— **Anonymous Donation of Chocolate Statue Discovered on Front Lawn of Homeless Shelter!** It is purported that this was an experimental project left by an aspiring art student from Cooper Union as it is solid chocolate, and extremely lifelike. The NYPD has reported that the statue bears an uncanny likeness to an armed felon who was recently reported in an attempted robbery. But no one has come forward to claim the statue, and it is now a public curiosity. One hungry resident attempted to chip off a piece of the statue to eat and spit it out, finding it terribly bitter, as it's unsweetened chocolate.

"Well, I suppose that's one way to resolve that problem," Bae remarked with a wicked smirk. "But what's gonna happen when summer comes?"

His father shrugged. "The shelter will have a chocolate lake."

Two weeks later, Tony Rizzoli came home, and Figaro and Tramp and the kittens went back ot his apartment over the Italian market. At least until the kittens were old enough to be found homes for. The calico, Amberle, had already found a home, of course. Bae came with Rhee to pick her up after a trip to the pet store, and it was then that Tony declared he had a surprise for Rumple as well.

"I'm gonna give him it today," the little shopkeeper declared.

"That's great, Tony," Bae said, chuckling. "He'll like that."

"What is it?" Rhee asked, hugging Amberle close.

"You'll see, _signorina_ ," Tony smiled, his dark eyes twinkling.

"C'mon, Rhee. Let's take your kitty home," Bae said, and they put her in a small carrier and hired a cab to take them home, not wanting to walk in the cold with the tiny kitten and risk her catching cold.

Rumple was just about to eat his lunch of a turkey and mozzarella sandwich, cheese curls, and celery with peanut butter when his shop bell tinkled and he left his office to see who had entered at this hour. To his surprise he saw his neighbor holding a wrapped box with a big red bow. "Hey, Tony! How are you feeling?"

"I feel much better," the little Italian said, and he went and handed his friend the box. "This if for you, Bobby. A . . . thank you gift."

"Tony, you didn't have to get me anything," Rumple protested.

"When a man saves your life, there is no gift to repay him," Tony began, then coughed. "But . . . I thought you and your lovely wife might like this."

Rumple set the box on the counter and slowly opened it. Inside was the tiny brown kitten that was once the runt of the litter. The kitten mewed softly and when the sorcerer reached inside to pet it, purred and crawled up onto his arm. "Hello, dearie!" he smiled and cradled the small creature to his chest, unmindful of the fur on his Armani suit. He looked up at his neighbor. "Thank you, Tony! This little fellow and I took a liking to each other when he stayed in my house."

Tony beamed. "I hadda feeling he was the right one for you. There's some food and toys in this bag and a litter box too."

Rumple cuddled the new member of his family, who purred happily, his amber eyes slitting in pleasure as the slender hands stroked his back and ears. "Belle will love him. I think she's wanted a cat for awhile now, but we were so busy moving here and then the baby was born we never had time to visit the shelter."

"I am glad you like him, _paisan_. He will be good company for you, Belle and the _bambina_."

Rumple scratched the kitten under the chin. "I'm sure he will be, won't you, little imp?"

The kitten purred louder then fell asleep in the crook of his arm.

"Oh, he's darling, Rumple!" Belle cooed over the kitten when her husband arrived home. "Now what shall we call him?"

Her husband looked at the kitten, who was pouncing at Belle's shoes. "I've been thinking about that all day. He's got fur that reminds me of chocolate . . . bittersweet chocolate. So . . .how about Bittersweet—Bitty for short? He's a tiny thing."

"That's an adorable name!" Belle declared and then she picked up the kitten and showed him to Carina, who giggled and then kissed her new "brother" on the nose.

Rumple snapped a picture of them and thought he now had another fine picture for the family album, and a new guest to invite for Sunday dinner.


End file.
